


A New Beginning

by silversundown



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 12:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14593371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silversundown/pseuds/silversundown
Summary: Daryl is hit with a tainted arrow during the fight with the saviors.





	A New Beginning

_**I don't own them.** _

_**Please note that while this may appear dire, I hope that anyone worried will trust me and read til the end :)  
** _

 

 

 

Carol said there would be nothing left of her if she kept following this path.  
  
Told Daryl by firelight and meant every single word. Felt it in her bones that it was the truth.  
  
She’d been trying to save the last remaining part of herself in that little yellow house, surrounded by books and fruits and with more quiet time than she could handle.  
  
Yet, here she is, doing the exact thing she said she couldn’t.  
  
She hadn’t told him…hadn’t told anyone, that walking past those iron gates and back into the fray had been a way to accept the only possible outcome.  
  
That there isn’t anything left of her anymore.  
  
That she doesn’t expect to survive the war.  
  
That she’s willing to make that sacrifice for the people she loves.  
  
It would be worth it, she’d thought. Get through it, smile, pretend you’re fine and do the job. Maybe make a difference…enough that there’s some of them left even when she’s gone.  
  
She hadn’t anticipated the way he makes her feel.  
  
Had spent enough time without him by now, in her self imposed exhale and even before that when she’d been isolated in Alexandria, that she assumed her heart would be safe.  
  
It’s no match for him, though, and every time he pulls a real smile from her that she didn’t think she had stored away, she sizzles back to life just a little bit more.  
  
Maybe there is something left, after all. It’s tethered to him, that much she’s certain of.  
  
It’s not until the Hilltop explodes in battle, bullets flying and sharp weapons embedding in soft flesh all around her, that she realizes just how true that is. When she spots him hanging off Rick’s shoulder, bloody and battered after the smoke clears, and the possibility of losing him makes her knees nearly buckles on the spot.  
  
She runs to greet them faster than she thought she could, feet landing hard in the dirt, lips parted and tears reflexively springing forward before her heart can even process what’s happened.  
  
It’s not lost on her that they flow so much easier now than they did when she learned about Carl. Of course, she’d been numb then. Forcefully stuffing it all down. Thinking about Carl means thinking about Lori and then Sophia and then everyone else and selfish or not she _just can’t_.  
  
Not yet. Not if she has any hope of functioning through the rest of this fight. She is sensitive under this hard outer shell and it won’t take much to crack it.  
  
The sight of Daryl injured is enough to force a hairline straight down the center already.  
  
“What happened? Oh god.” She knows what happened, it’s obvious enough by the sight of the arrow still lodged in his lower belly.  
  
Nervous fear makes her speak anyway. Quick to take up the spot at Daryl’s other side and help carry him toward the infirmary trailer with Siddiq hot on their heels.  
  
At least they have a doctor now. She has Carl to thank for that.  
  
“Fuckers shot me.” Daryl sputters out with a groan as they help him onto a bed. One shaky hand gripping the feathered end to keep it from shifting.  
  
He sways a little until they hold him still, most of his weight leaning on Rick but his free hand reaches for her almost frantically, landing rough at her forearm. Working on instinct alone that tells him to find that connection and grip it tight.  
  
“Not too bad…I mean, I know it doesn’t feel that way, but looks like it probably missed everything important. Gonna need to snip the end and tug it out. Let it drain before we stitch you up.”  
  
Siddiq is quick to asses the damage and his words make her emotions flutter in all directions like scattered butterflies.  
  
Daryl’s going to be okay and it feels too good to be true. Like a gift she hadn’t expected and doesn’t deserve.  
  
Leave it up to him to get shot in the stomach and survive.  
  
He grips her hand hard enough to white his knuckles as the arrow is snipped and pulled out, a hard gasp leaving his lips that makes her nerves clench just as tightly.  
  
It’s like watching a train wreck as the blood begins to gush in little streams like the most fascinating sight.  
  
“You’re sure he’ll be okay?” She says, low and hesitant, as if her voice alone could distract Siddiq from his job enough to cost Daryl is life.  
  
“Well, not sure. No way to tell for certain if it did knick anything important, but it’s in a good location and the bleeding is minimal. All things considering.” He replies, tossing a splash of alcohol on the entry and exit wounds.  
  
It doesn’t seem minimal to her but she’s not a doctor either and chooses to believe what she so badly wants to be the truth.  
  
“Jesus christ, ya got shit bedside manner. Coulda warned me that was comin’.” Daryl explodes with a growl at the sting on his broken skin, uncurling his fingers just enough to give her back some circulation again.  
  
She’s surprised he’s allowed himself to touch her like this, but maybe she shouldn’t be. He’s been more easy with his affections these days, quick to hug her and show emotion. Far less stoic than he used to be.  
  
It has to mean something, even if they often feel just as far apart as they are close.  
  
Her thumb rubs softly across his knuckles as her heart slows its cadence. Maybe the endorphins have kicked in because he barely flinches when he’s allowed to lay back, eyes heavy and skin pale.  
  
“Lost a decent amount of a blood, but nothing you can’t reproduce. Get some rest, eat some cookies, call me in the morning.” Siddiq says with a half smile, like he’s waiting for them to appreciate the joke, but it falls flat.  
  
Even if she wanted to laugh she couldn’t.  
  
Doesn’t notice the others leaving until she looks up to find them already gone.  
  
Makes a mental note to find Rick later. Tell him how sorry she is…make an effort even if it hurts. Even if she feels undone at the very thought.  
  
There may not be time later and this near death scare is only more proof of that.  
  
Now, she’s alone in the small space with Daryl. Tucked against the far wall and perched on the edge of his bed, watching him watching her.  
  
If she keeps clutching his hand much longer they might stray into awkward territory soon, but he doesn’t move to let go and so she doesn’t either.  
  
Fuck it, she thinks. She’ll risk it.  
  
“I’m okay. Gonna be fine. Those assholes gonna have to find another way to take me out.” He says, slow, almost slurred. A side effect of the blood loss she can see soaking the heavily padded bandage at his stomach.  
  
“Stop it.” She hisses, chastising and almost angry at how easily he jokes about such things. “Don’t even say that. This was close. Too close.”  
  
She can feel her self control failing miserably in the face of all the little what-ifs she just can’t shake.  
  
For a moment he seems surprised that she’s so upset. Curious and guilty. “Sorry.”  
  
That one word is weighted and deep in a way she’s not sure how to handle, so she tries for a distraction instead. Lighter than before even if she’s faking it. “If we were still in Alexandria I’d take his advice and bake you a few cookies, get your blood sugar back up.”  
  
He huffs, pained but lucid enough to carry a conversation. “Heard they were good. Never got any.”  
  
She frowns at that, all earlier attempts at lightness gone. “I know. I should have found you when I was making the rounds.”  
  
He gives her a sad half shrug. “I coulda found you in the kitchen when you were baking ‘em.”  
  
They grow silent for a moment, in the middle of their weird conversation about cookies that has nothing to do with cookies in the slightest.  
  
For all the hugs they’ve had since then and the tears they’ve cried together there is something broken here, too, and they both know it. Even if they don’t have a clue how to fix it just yet.  
  
The tried and true method of ignoring it and moving on clearly hasn’t worked so far, might even be the perfect breeding ground for this mess in the first place.  
  
“Glad you’re here now.” He says finally, like it’s a natural progression of this discussion when it feels like anything but.  
  
That doesn’t stop her from responding, though. Nodding softly while heat prickles at her eyes all over again. Reminding her just how close to the surface her emotions really are. “I’m glad you’re here too.”  
  
She has every intention of finding some food to get the color back into his cheeks again, but she’s rooted to the edge of his mattress right now, unable to look away from his face or even rise to her feet.  
  
He might disappear right in front of her if she does, and she can’t risk that.  
  
“Hey, I ain’t dead yet. Heard what the doc said. It's alright.” He mumbles, flippant and easy as his eyes begin to close.  
  
_‘Ain’t dead yet’._  
  
Yet. Yet. Yet. That’s all she hears on a loop.  
  
She wants to scold him once more for being so casual about all this. Doesn’t he see what it’s done to her? Can’t he tell that she’s five seconds away from curling up in a ball right next to him, the weight of this stress only piling on top of all the others, too heavy a burden to carry.  
  
It’s not until he’s drifted off to sleep that the rustle of more people being drug into the trailer makes her look away to see what the fuss is about.  
  
Tobin with a slice to his leg and a wound in his side and an older man missing a finger, hand clutched to his chest.  
  
She frowns, giving Daryl one more cursory glance before forcing herself away to help with the others. Do something productive that doesn’t involve shadowing Morgan or the kid.  
  
Maybe find some damn cookies in the storage pantry…thinks she saw a sealed package tucked away behind several boxes of beans.  
  
He’s going to be just fine, he told her himself, no reason she can’t let him rest alone for now.  
  
He’s never liked hovering anyway.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Five hours later Carol’s curled up on the bed beside him, feeling the cold sweat on his skin and harsh shivers wrack his body.  
  
It didn’t take long after losing both of the others to figure that the weapons were tainted.  
  
There’s only one bed occupied now and she won’t be getting off it any time soon.  
  
The virus affects everyone differently, and while the others succumbed quickly to the fever Daryl is still in the early stages. Denying his fate with every breath much as she denies it in her own head.  
  
“It’s nothin’. Don’t listen to them.” He says. Pulling her close with one weak arm to snug softly into his side. “Just so damn cold.”  
  
She feels numb at his words while cocooned in his embrace. Can’t cry or speak or do anything but lay here, curled protectively around him like a snake ready to strike should anyone else come too close.  
  
Her brain short circuited somewhere along the way between figuring out the truth and climbing slowly into bed with him.  
  
He’d been the one to offer, reaching out for her as reality washed over his face like a wave. Tugging gently when her hand fit snug into his and she went so easily she wonders why it took him being near death for this to happen.  
  
So much wasted time. So many wasted chances. It’s all slipped through her fingers like grains of sand and there’s no scooping it back up now.  
  
She whispers sweet words into the curve of his neck, nose nudging against sweat cooled skin. Nonsense things that agree with all this denial because what does it matter anymore now?  
  
She’d agree if he said the sky was purple or that their Jesus really was the second coming.  
  
He’s been given a few antibiotics _‘just in case’_ , before the others left them alone again and some part of her wants to believe they might help even though the wish is futile.  
  
That thin thread of hope still dangles from her nerves but every shiver and cough that flows through him frays it a little bit more than before.  
  
She’s not sure how long it’s been. Minutes, hours, while she stares glassy-eyed a thousand miles ahead, focused on the moonlight filtering in between the window blinds. Guilt already bundling up in her heart for not focusing on him instead.  
  
She will regret this later. Will wish she’d made the most of their time together.  
  
Said everything that needs to be said.  
  
Told him how much she loves him.  
  
They only do that in the movies, though. Back when that was still a thing. Not now, when she can hardly inhale her next breath without feeling like she might crumble.  
  
“It’s always been you.” He says softly, apparently not having the same thought process as she is. Not willing to tuck his feelings away and die with them still buried deep. “Ever since the farm…I've been so stupid. So damn stupid.”  
  
Her lower lip already trembles when she lifts her head to find his eyes. Pulling the blanket up a little higher when she knows damn well it’s pointless.  
  
“It’s always been you too.” She replies, her words catching at the end. Throat closing up as she swallows hard.  
  
There’s nothing left to lose anymore, nothing to fear when the end looms close and maybe that’s why he smiles so easily at her admission. A singe request falling from his lips, soft and hopeful, even as it tears her heart in two.  
  
_‘Kiss me?’_ He says, the question mark on the end betraying that last bit of doubt he may be holding onto while impending doom spurs bravery to catastrophic levels.  
  
She shakes her head instantly, the tips of silver hair fluttering in protest. Feels like she’s dying too. Like everything around her is fading fast and the desire to turn away and vomit right over the side of the bed is strong enough that she nearly caves.  
  
She’s wide eyed and terrified, still shaking her head in refusal while regretting the motion. “No….no…I can’t, don’t ask me to…because then that’s it. Then it’s over and that’s not fair. _That’s not fair, how could you…_ ”  
  
She wants to rage at him for not asking her before, when they had the illusion of the rest of their lives ahead of them.  
  
He hides his disappointment well, or maybe he never expected her to agree anyway. Nods slowly, one hand running the length of her spine and back down again. “Okay, okay. Shoulda asked before all this….shoulda done a lotta things, but I've been stupid, remember? ”  
  
He’s too good natured about the whole thing. Too accepting and too calm and that only fuels her rage even more…until she remembers that by this time tomorrow he’ll be gone and all that anger morphs straight into empty sadness.  
  
“Me too. I’ve been stupid too.” She says on a choked breath, before leaning in swiftly to capture his lips with her own.  
  
He stills against her for a moment, surprised and hesitant and she can’t blame him. Had to move quick and gather her courage before it all petered out again, but then his lips go slack and pliable and any doubt about this being the right choice fades away.  
  
He’s warm against her, chapped but still soft enough to glide with her slow, easy movements as she deepens the pressure. Fingers caressing the stubble along his jawline. His lower lip plump between her own as she gives it a gentle suck before pulling away.  
  
His hands must have drifted down to her waist sometime in the last few seconds because he’s gripping her hard against him, holding on so tightly like it’s the only thing keeping her here and despite the slight discomfort she only melts deeper into his side, smiling softly at the look of wonder across his beautiful face.  
  
“You didn’t have too.” He says, his own eyes already watered enough to spill over at the edges.  
  
She nods, leaning back in to pepper his lips with another soft, easy kiss. Enough to taste the salt that’s drifted down off his cheeks. “I want to. I wanna know how you feel. I wanna make one good choice…at least one.”  
  
When she lays her head down against his chest again she doesn’t expect to get back up until he’s already gone. Listens to the beating of his heart, every ragged, jarring thump against her ear like it’s the best song she’s ever heard. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest with every inhale and exhale and lets it help her mind drift to a doze, hazy and thick.  
  
It’s easier than she thought to simply lay here and wait. There’s so much emotion coiled tightly in her chest that she couldn’t feel any of it if she tried.  
  
It’s too overwhelming, too deep, and maybe that’s why she can shut it off and leave it for tomorrow.  
  
Focus on the touch of his palm at her back instead and way the moonlight glints off her own knuckles where they curl around his ribs.  
  
He won’t make it through the night, she knows that much. Waits and waits and somehow pushes through every awful twist of fear and grief building up in her gut until the sun breaks through the midnight haze, lighting up the room and illuminating all that sweat slicked skin that’s dried under her embrace.  
  
He feels cooler to the touch, too. No longer does her hand come away wet when she caresses his cheek, or the flush of fever coat it pink.  
  
She props up on her elbow, watching his eyes play quick movements under closed lids….the end of a dream that startles him awake a moment later. Clear and lucid and just as confused as she is.  
  
They won’t find out until later that his arrow wasn’t infected.  
  
That he’d only succumbed to a common infection and even though it still runs in his blood, the worst is behind them.  
  
Right now though, all she can see is the man she loves alive and breathing underneath her like an answered wish. Smiling back at her in bewildered happiness before he tugs her back down for another kiss, harder than the last one, more desperate and careless and covered in expectation instead of grief.  
  
Even a lifetime of moments ahead of them could never be enough, but this new beginning they’ve been gifted is a damn good start.  
  


 


End file.
